


Sick Day

by daggersandribbons



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Nygmobblepositivity, Nygmobblepot, Sick!Oswald, caretaker!Ed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-27
Updated: 2018-11-27
Packaged: 2019-09-01 05:27:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16758835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daggersandribbons/pseuds/daggersandribbons
Summary: When Oswald becomes ill, it’s up to Ed to take care of him





	Sick Day

Being the Mayor of Gotham whilst managing various business accounts was taxing. Add in all the crime AND an injured leg, the stress was taking its toll. 

As the clock ticked to ten a.m., Oswald still laid in bed. He had tried twice, once he made it to the door without feeling sick and the second time he couldn’t even make it out of the bed. His leg hurt and he couldn’t even make it to the bathroom to vomit. Luckily there was a waste basket nearby. The door creaked open as Ed stepped foot in the room. There he saw Oswald, his little bird all curled up in his blanket.

“Olga said you didn’t come down for breakfast, and you have a meeting in twenty minutes with th-“ Ed’s speech stopped when he noticed the state Oswald was in. He immediately rushed to Oswald’s bedside.

“Oz?” Ed asked softly. He knew that this was no time for quips and riddles. Oswald looked up at him, his pale eyes that were usually filled with power and mischief were glassy and dull. 

“I’ll be up for my meeting in a moment, just let me get some shoes.” Oswald responded softly, and threw back his blanket. As this point Ed was opening a window, trying to get the stale air and the scent of vomit out of the room. Dressed in a pair lavender silk pajama bottoms and a t-shirt of Ed’s, Oswald sat up to get off the bed. When he stood, the knee of his dominant leg buckled, causing Oswald to fall forward and smash his nose into the hardwood floor, giving him a nose bleed. Ed was immediately right by his side once again, crouched on the floor. 

“You need rest, and relaxation,” Ed stated as Oswald sat himself up against the bed. Oswald closed his eyes and tilted his head back. Ed’s attention was turned to what Oswald was doing. He sat on the ground across from him and gently tilted Oswald’s head down. 

“It’s a common misconception that you should tilt your head back when your nose bleeds, doing that can cause blood to flow down to the throat.” He unbuttoned his shirt to use as a makeshift napkin, leaving him in slacks and a white t-shirt. 

“Ed, love, if you don’t stop talking about blood collecting in my throat I will take a knife to yours,” Oswald replied, his voice slightly muffled by the shirt. Ed chuckled in response.

“You’re going to go grab the knife from across the room? I doubt it.” 

Ed stood as Olga entered the doorway. She dropped her tray of food, the metal clanging against the floor and the food spilling. He didn’t even have time to explain the situation at hand before she ran over to Oswald while cursing Ed in Russian. 

“Olga, Olga it’s fine. I’m just under the weather, how do you say it? болезнь I have one.” Oswald attempted to explain. 

“And as for the blood, he fell trying to get out of bed.” Ed continued the explanation, but was met with a death glare from Olga. 

“принять ванну” Olga muttered as she left the room. 

“What did she say?”

“Something about bathing,”

~

Ed, with Oswald in his arms, entered the bathroom. Oswald loved how effortlessly Ed could pick him up, and was especially grateful for the ability in that moment. Ed sat Oswald on the side of the bathtub. He helped his companion strip down wordlessly, and made sure he got in the tub without injury. As Oswald sunk into the warm water, Ed sat on the toilet. The room was silent, and while it was soothing for Oswald, it was putting Ed on edge. He was worried about his bird, the incessant dripping sound from the tap wasn’t helping either.

“When I’m first said, I’m quite mysterious,  
But when I’m explained, I’m nothing serious. What am I?” Ed asked to break the silence. Oswald opened his eyes and shot Ed a bewildered look. 

“You didn’t seriously just ask me a riddle...about a riddle. How meta,” Oswald responded, a small smile on his lips. Ed grinned at the sight of Oswald’s smile, but both of their smiles faded fast as Oswald’s eyes went wide and his right arm emerged from the water to point at the small trash can sitting beside the toilet. In one fell swoop, Ed grabbed the trash can and handed it to Oswald; who contorted his body to hold the trash can and vomit outside of the tub. 

Ed had never seen Oswald in such a state of disarray, it was almost fascinating. A man of such power, brought down by a simple illness. He almost didn’t know what to do, but the answer was simple. This was no different then the care he would give Oswald after making love. The structure of all forms of care, physical or otherwise, were similar. 

Ed gently placed his cool hand on Oswald’s warm back, the sensation earning Ed an audible sigh from Oswald. 

“Oz, can you tell me what you ate yesterday? Spirits included,” he questioned as Oswald sat the trash can down and sunk back into the water. 

“For breakfast I had some toast, then I spent lunch with you, a few glasses of wine, and for dinner I had that business dinner. I usually would’ve gotten the steak, but they were really pushing the chicken. A few of us got the chicken, I wonder if they are sick too.” Oswald responded softly before yawning. 

“Will you check to see if Olga is finished cleaning my room? I’d like to take a nap.” He asked, though his eyes were on the ceiling. A quick peek down the hallway showed that Oswald’s room was nap ready. 

“I’m going to go prepare your bed, can you make it to your room?” 

Oswald nodded softly before Ed exited the room. It wasn’t long after that Oswald was curled up in bed again. Ed kissed Oswald’s forehead before watching him fall out of consciousness. 

Now that Ed was alone, it was time to get to the bottom of the problem at hand. He made his way to his office, where he accessed Oswald’s itinerary from the previous day. 

“Business dinner with Gotham City Water Department, at Morelli’s. Hmm, who’s on the water department board?” Ed muttered to himself. Two hours of searching and phone calls led him to the answer he was looking for, and it also meant that he had a trip to take. 

~

The small bell above the door rang as Ed Nygma stepped into the door. 

“Hello, welcome to Morelli’s, just one?” The hostess asked. Ed smiled at her in response. 

“I’m afraid I’m not dining here this evening, I work for Mayor Cobblepot and he was just so impressed with a certain chicken dish he had here last night that he insisted that I run over here and find the man who cooked it.” A sweet face like Ed’s was easy to trust. 

“He’ll be so happy to hear that! He’s actually working tonight if you’d like to meet him,” 

“That’d be wonderful!”

The scent of Italian food filled Ed’s nostrils as the young lady led him to a portly gentleman who was stirring a sauce. 

“Says he’s from the mayors office, he liked your dish last night!” She giggled excitedly as the gentleman’s eyes met Ed’s. 

“I’ve got to say that I’m honored that Mayor Cobblepot liked my dish,” the man said, unaware of what was to come. Ed picked up a knife, and began to examine it before pinning the chef against the table and pressing the knife to his neck. 

“Everyone has some, you can lose some, but you cannot live without it. What am i?” Ed inquired. 

“W-What?!” The chef stammered. 

“Wrong, the answer was blood. The same blood that’s going to spill from you if you ever try to serve that death wish you call food again. Consider yourself warned,” Ed growled before exiting out the back door. 

~

As Ed walked into Oswald’s room, he slipped his shoes and jacket off before joining Oswald in bed. Oswald, though asleep, found his way into Ed’s arms. 

“Goodnight Oz,” he whispered before shutting his eyes and falling asleep himself.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry not sorry for how long this is


End file.
